


Making Waves

by leporidae



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Tension, Day At The Beach, Kissing, M/M, Watermelons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 22:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15349917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: This isn’t even a vacation anymore, not really. Now that Ephraim has arrived on the scene, what could have been a pleasant day has instead become yet another chance for Innes to prove his mettle against the biggest obstacle in his life.





	Making Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I started this immediately after the first summer banner dropped this year in Heroes, and I'm still sad we got cheated out of summer Ephraim. Maybe next year?
> 
> To be quite honest, I started this partially because Summer Innes's castle lines are hilarious, and partially out of spite because people were being homophobic on Reddit (what's new). Turns out besides just liking this pair, I apparently had a lot more spite in me than I had realized, because this got way longer than I could have fathomed.
> 
> It's definitely a bit disjointed, because I just wanted to write a bunch of scenes rather than a fic proper, so it may read a bit... jerky? I'm pretty ambivalent, since this whole thing was kind of a weird vent anyway.

"I’m glad Ephraim and Eirika finally decided to come out and enjoy the beach with us,” Tana says, twirling one braid around her finger. “Eirika told me she always gets nervous on the beach around strangers, because people stare at her in her swimsuit. I told her I’d slap any guy who leers at her, like I’m her bodyguard, and then we could do all sorts of fun beach stuff, and  – Innes, stop scowling! What’s wrong with you? We’re about to have fun with our friends on the beach, and you look like we’re at a funeral.”

Innes continues to glower at his younger sister, unamused as usual by her ability to gush endlessly without taking a breath. “Yes, we are indeed on the beach, Tana. Thank you for so _graciously_ pointing out that fact.”

She gently elbows him in the side, though her expression is still stern. “Aren’t you excited to see Eirika?”

“I suppose.”

“And Ephraim?”

To this question, Innes says nothing. Ephraim’s impending presence is the reason he’s scowling in the first place, and he knows Tana is aware of that. “That damned fool will most certainly do something idiotic and get us all banned from the beach for the rest of the summer. He's the kind of inconsiderate ignoramus to engage in a brawl with an unsuspecting stranger over nothing, cause a scene, and ruin our time here.”

“Nice alliteration. If you’re trying to compete with him to ruin this vacation for me, you’re already winning,” Tana says flatly. “So try to suck it up and – oh, there they are!”

 _Why did she ask if she didn’t want to hear the answer in the first place?_ Innes thinks sourly. He turns around slowly, the pit in his stomach growing. Approaching across the sand are the twins in question, Eirika with a beach towel slung across her shoulder and Ephraim carrying a cooler in one hand and an umbrella in the other. All the years of forsaking his academics for physical training have made Ephraim annoyingly toned, and Innes wonders sourly if Ephraim had only made an appearance on the beach to show off those muscles. Innes is no slouch in the physical department, either; he practices archery every day, dabbles in other physical exercises to keep himself in peak condition, and eats healthily. And yet still he finds himself irrationally pissed that Ephraim has the nerve to waltz onto the beach with his equally-if-not-better-toned beach body ripped directly from the cover of the summer issue of a fitness magazine. That combined with Ephraim’s ghastly neon blue sunglasses that make him look like a fraternity member of Alpha Fuckboy Phi is enough to ignite Innes’s fantasies of tackling Ephraim to the sand and punching his face until the other admits Innes’s superiority.

“Hi!” Eirika waves enthusiastically upon reaching them, placing her towel in the sand at her feet and smoothing it out. Unlike her brother, Eirika’s sunglasses are not hideous and her presence doesn’t fill Innes with indescribable anger, so that’s already two points in her favor. “There aren’t as many people out here as I’d thought – I’m kind of relieved.”

“I chased them all away for you,” Tana says with a cheerful wink. “I see you’re making your brother do all the heavy lifting,” she adds, gesturing to the cooler as Ephraim sets it atop the towel.

Ephraim chuckles. “I’ve got to be good for something, I suppose. Hello, Tana.”

Innes steps in front of her, folding his arms across his chest. “Aren’t you forgetting someone, you insufferable oaf?”

Ephraim rolls his eyes, a dismissive gesture that further infuriates Innes. “Hello, Innes.” One eyebrow quirks upward as Ephraim’s eyes scan Innes from head to toe. “What’s with the swimsuit? Two different lengths, huh? Could you not decide on pants or shorts, or what?”

“I’ll have you know this was a conscious fashion decision based on the aesthetic properties of asymmetry.”

“If you say so,” Ephraim says, clearly trying hard not to smile as he turns back to Tana. At this moment Innes wants nothing more than to jab a knife between Ephraim’s ribs and twist it violently. “You let him leave the house like this?”

Tana swoons melodramatically. “Alas, I could not stop him from dressing himself. He is an adult, and I am not his mother. His choices are fully his own.”

It’s a wonder Ephraim and Tana can even joke around like this, considering their shared history. Back when the four of them were children, Tana had gunned for Ephraim’s attention constantly, dressing in her prettiest attire when she knew he was visiting and speaking a little more coyly when he was around. Of course, being an oblivious idiot, Ephraim hadn’t even remotely registered Tana’s overwhelming affection on his nonexistent romantic radar. For a while, Tana had been hurt at his behavior, then angry, then resentful – but eventually her negative feelings towards Ephraim had faded into forgiveness and made way for a healthier friendship.

The same cannot be said for Innes. Despite being smarter than Ephraim, and more diverse than Ephraim, and more responsible than Ephraim – _the list goes on and on_ – he never can seem to fully best the man in anything.  Ephraim’s dense, laid-back attitude is something strangers find charming, and Innes finds himself struggling to maintain the attention of others at social gatherings when Ephraim is present. Though Innes has beaten Ephraim in individual sports such as archery, he still pales in comparison when it comes to general physical prowess. Because of this, he must be on the alert as long as he’s around Ephraim, whether they’re on the beach or otherwise. Innes refuses to be shown up even on vacation simply because he’s let his guard down.

This isn’t even a vacation anymore, not really. Now that Ephraim has arrived on the scene, what could have been a pleasant day has instead become yet another chance for Innes to prove his mettle against the biggest obstacle in his life.

* * *

Innes doesn’t quite know exactly how he’d gotten here. One moment he had been standing on the beach, fuming about the presence of the most irritating man alive and praying to the gods that a giant tidal wave would arise and sweep him away and out of Innes’s life forever. Then Ephraim had offered to check out the fare on the boardwalk, searching for a stand selling ice cream or some other kind of cold treat he could buy for Eirika. Before he had considered the logistics behind what he was doing, Innes had begun to follow Ephraim.

He doesn’t want to _talk_ to him — that’s unheard of when it comes to the two of them. Normally in this situation, Innes would find something that Ephraim had inevitably done wrong and harass him about it until he runs out of breath. But right now there’s unfortunately nothing to harass him _for_ , and Innes finds himself at an awkward crossroads between leaving and continuing to trail the man for no reason. Unable to fathom the kind of interaction he desires and how to make it happen, Innes steps behind a lamppost in a laughable attempt to hide his presence, waiting for Ephraim to make some kind of social or existential blunder at the shaved ice stand, and thus giving him an opportunity to commence criticism.

“I’ll take…” Ephraim ponders for a moment as he retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swimsuit. “One strawberry for me, one peach for my sister.”

The vendor hums in acknowledgement, reaching behind him to fill the first paper cone with crushed ice. “That’ll be seven bucks.”

“Seems a bit overpriced for shaved ice, but I’ll let it slide since we’re on vacation,” Ephraim says with a wry smile, then pauses  – and swivels around to make direct eye contact with Innes. “Did you want one too? Since you’re lurking back there.”

Innes jumps about a foot in the air, horrified beyond belief that Ephraim had drawn attention to his hiding place. Then again, ducking behind a lamppost skinnier than the width of one’s own body is perhaps not the most surefire way to avoid detection in the first place.

“I have no desire to take handouts from you,” Innes hisses, striding out from behind the post as though he had intended to reveal himself at this precise moment all along. “I would be indebted to you if I agreed, and sometime in the far future, you would force me to do some favor for you because of the interest I had accrued from your little shaved ice _gift._ ”

“It’s like, four dollars,” Ephraim says, rolling his eyes. “And there’s no interest on gifts, idiot. That’s why they’re gifts. It’s not a loan. Now tell me what flavor you want before I ask for a scoop of unflavored ice and shove it down your pants.”

Squinting, Innes attempts to detect deceit in Ephraim’s tone or body language, but all he’s certain of is that he’s being teased. He frowns. “Fine. I’ll take watermelon.”

“One watermelon, please,” Ephraim says to the vendor, who nods. “Getting into the spirit early, huh?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Ephraim pays for the remainder of the shaved ice, handing Innes his cup and a plastic spoon. “Tana was telling me that they’re holding some kind of melon-smashing contest on the beach pretty soon, and apparently you’ve been training those stick arms of yours in preparation.”

“I do not have _stick arms,_ ” Innes growls, taking a tiny lick of the flavored ice. It’s admittedly rather refreshing, but since he doesn’t want to thank Ephraim, he simply glowers intensely and hopes the message gets across somehow. “I’ll have you know that I spend hours daily honing my archery to the point of perfection. One cannot easily knock arrows with arms of subpar strength and stamina.”

“Geez, all right. You’ve been training your _extremely toned archery arms_. Your arms that are so toned, I can’t even begin to imagine the sheer strength and power they possess. Let me feel your muscles, so that I may combust with pure jealousy, oh great one.”

“No.”

“Flex, Innes.” Ephraim pokes him in the chest with one sticky finger, and Innes shudders, taking  a step back. “I want to know what an arm overflowing with strength and stamina feels like.”

“Ephraim, you’re being absurd.”

“Are you admitting you have no muscle tone after all?”

Heaving a sigh so heavy it would have registered on a seismometer, Innes hoists one arm and flexes quickly — though not quickly enough to avoid Ephraim’s fingers wrapping around his bicep. With a soft growl, Innes pulls away jerkily.

“There’s a bit of muscle in there,” Ephraim comments nonchalantly.

“It’s more than a bit!” Innes snaps, the skin of his arm still tingling where Ephraim’s fingers had been moments before. “I am _plenty_ toned, thank you very much!”

“Mmhmm.”

This argument is stupid. Most arguments between the two of them are stupid, but this one is _really_ stupid. Arguing about the size of one’s muscles is something brainless jocks do in high school locker rooms. It’s not a conversation worthy of someone of Innes’s caliber. And yet his petulant nature always bubbles to the surface when Ephraim pokes the bee’s nest of his emotions with the stick of his tactlessness.

“Don’t you have to deliver that to Eirika?” Innes challenges, pointing to the thin line of melted peach-flavored ice running down Ephraim’s wrist. “Or would you rather stand there like a deer in the headlights as the cold treat you so _graciously_ purchased for your sister is reduced to nothing more than a puddle?”

“Huh? Oh. Right.” Ephraim raises his arm and licks off the melting ice like the barbarian he is. “See you for some melon-smashing later then, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Ephraim grins. “Great. Well, enjoy your ice, then.”

Innes does enjoy it, loathe as he is to admit it.

* * *

Much like Ephraim had said, Innes had been preparing for this competition for weeks. As soon as he had caught wind of the event, Innes had immediately started a fierce training regimen dedicated to tone his arms. He adjusted his grip on sticks of various lengths until it became second nature, perfected his stance, and had even practiced on a few watermelons of varying sizes beforehand while wearing a blindfold. Due to his nuanced practice beforehand, he knows he can secure the victory next to what's sure to be Ephraim’s typically brutish approach. It doesn’t matter that this is a silly beach tournament that will be forgotten by everyone, including Ephraim himself, by the next day. Any win against Ephraim is one step further towards his goal of, well, being better than Ephraim.  

It is for this reason that he has decided to approach this inane beach activity with utmost resolution.

There aren’t many people lining up for the melon-splitting competition, which disappoints Innes, because he had wanted to show up more people. Is that petty of him? Yes, it is — but he’s never cared about that. Winning and flaunting his superiority over Ephraim in front of a group of people would be the highlight of his day — his life, even. But he’ll have to settle for humiliating him in front of a small crowd rather than a large one.

The first two competitors can’t even split the watermelon all the way through. Innes’s lip curls as Ephraim is passed the stick and steps up to bat, tying the blindfold around his eyes.

“Remember, whoever makes the _cleanest_ split through the melon is the victor,” Innes explains smugly.

Ephraim’s grip on the stick tightens, and an almost-manic grin begins to form on his lips. He may be oblivious to most implications, exhaustingly so at times, but even Ephraim knows when he’s being challenged. Innes would be lying to himself if he were to say that Ephraim’s excitement didn’t fire him up as well.

But he makes the mistake of glancing over at Ephraim at the moment of his swing, and gods is it a mistake. Even with his eyes hidden, his form blazes with intense concentration as though he’s striking the final blow on an enemy soldier, and there’s no hesitation as he slams the stick into the fruit with such strength Innes nearly stumbles off balance just standing next to him.

When it comes to intellectual conversations, Ephraim tunes out and acts dopey, which Innes mocks him for ceaselessly. But when Ephraim is focused, when his battle-crazed hunger for physical challenge overtakes him, he’s a completely different person. A person who has so much power, it’s almost blinding to behold.

The moment is over, and Innes is sweating now, which he blames on the summer sun. Ephraim’s torso is splattered with the entrails of the watermelon he has just demolished, and Innes spends far too long beholding that fact before his eyes snap back up to meet Ephraim’s.

He pulls off the blindfold with a flourish. “I split the melon,” Ephraim says, a smug smile flickering on his face.

“A — a barbaric display, to be sure,” Innes snaps unsteadily.

Ephraim is still covered in watermelon and is making no moves to brush it off.

Perhaps Innes should help him with that.

_With his mouth._

It’s too much  – the intrusive thought, the sight of Ephraim standing there, sweaty and sticky from the aftermath of his strong arms, the smirk and the eye contact and their mutual half-nakedness — Innes has to _go_ , he has to go right now, and run, and jump into the ocean hoping it’s much, much colder than how he’s currently feeling.

Ephraim’s arm is outstretched, offering him the stick to try next, and he’s probably said something that Innes hadn’t paid attention to, because his head is tilted to the side. Innes knocks the hand away and spins on the heel of his foot, whipping up a cloud of dust that tickles his ankles. Looking back is too dangerous.

 _Fuck the contest_ — it’s not just his pride on the line now, but also his sanity.

* * *

Innes finds a ledge on the cliffside uninhabited by anyone, and he climbs up to huddle there, eyes squeezed shut and completely floored by the mixture of emotions he had suddenly experienced. Since when had Ephraim’s simpleton, jockish tendencies put him at a loss for words, made his throat go dry, and plagued him with the unpleasant flush of arousal? Knowing that he’d even had such a thought about Ephraim may as well be the end of the line for his dignity.

But undoubtedly, in that flash of a moment, Innes had been attracted to a man he’d formerly believed he hated.

He wants to die.

“Innes?”

A shadow falls across his face, but Innes doesn’t need to open his eyes to recognize his sister’s voice. He does anyway, because sulking doesn’t suit him, and meets her gaze with what he hopes is an irritated glare and not an anxious one. “Don’t you have something better to do than bother me? For example, I don’t know — discussing the intricacies of hair care with Eirika, perhaps?”

Tana sticks her tongue out. “Don’t be rude and sexist. Besides, if anyone needs to think more deeply about hair care, it’s you. That mullet of yours is still not doing you or anyone around you any favors.”

“I’m not cutting my hair, Tana. We’ve had this discussion plenty of times. I like it this way.”

His sister sighs and sits on the rock next to him, dangling her legs over the edge and kicking them idly. “What’s got you so depressed?”

“I’m not depressed.”

“ _Innes._ ”

“I’m – simply thinking. Contemplating, musing. You should try it sometime, rather than always running your mouth like a child.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Tana huffs. “Seriously, Innes — don’t try to hide your stress from me. As much as you want to keep thinking I’m still as immature and oblivious as I was in high school, I’m not. I’ve grown up a lot in the last few years. And I know you well enough to know that the meaner you are to me, the more is on your mind.” She prods Innes’s shoulder with her finger, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The old Tana would have yelled at him for being mean and then stomped away, making a massive scene before vanishing. This Tana is nothing like that, instead earnest and sympathetic. Though Innes doesn’t fully trust his sister to keep her mouth shut, he knows he has to get this off his chest before he throws himself into the ocean to escape his problems. “I was thinking about Ephraim,” he begins cautiously.

Tana nods. “Figures it’d be him that put you in a sour mood. Tell me the details. Did you guys fight?”

“No,” Innes says, which is technically the truth. “It’s not about that.” Wistfully he watches the horizon, the way the beams of sunlight refract over the ocean, and something about the sight sets his mind a bit at ease. “Ephraim’s actions are without logic. He never seems stressed or anxious, never seems to second-guess himself. He rushes in without plans, which is both a strength and a weakness. Regardless, this quality of his has always vexed me.”

“What’s with the sudden evil villain monologue?” Tana interjects, rolling her eyes.

Innes opts to ignore the comment. “If he was in the ocean, and a shark swam towards him, what action would he take? Normal logic would dictate an escape. But Ephraim is the kind of person who’d wrestle the shark to submission, defying all human instinct. And no doubt about it, the shark would be the one fleeing by the end of the brawl. By the gods, the man has no ‘flight’ instinct – simply a ‘fight’ one!  It is something I find inexplicable, and endlessly frustrating!”

“So… you’re angry at the thought that Ephraim would act inhumane to sea creatures?”

How is she not following this by now? (Then again, he can barely follow his own train of thought.) “Absolutely not — I’m angry that I’m having this absurd thought in the first place!”

“Then… think about something else?”

Innes turns to his sister, pained, and grasps her arm with one hand. “I _can’t_.”

To her credit, Tana says nothing, waiting patiently.

As much as he loathes his own mind right now, Innes knows he’ll practically start rotting from repressed anxiety if he doesn’t manage to express what he's feeling. “Do you remember when our father invited the twins to visit for your birthday celebration?”

Understandably, Tana isn’t too happy at this turn of conversation. “How could I forget the humiliation of repeatedly trying to get that brick’s attention, to no avail? You challenged Ephraim to practically every sport known to humankind, and I wasn’t able to talk to him for the rest of the evening. I was so angry with you back then! You completely upstaged me at my own party.”

Now Innes is replaying the events of the gathering back in his mind, almost smiling. “I believe I dragged him to the shooting range with me, and bested him there. And after, we —”

“Innes!” Tana practically shouts, and Innes puts the brakes on his reminiscing. “I get it, I don’t need a play-by-play. Why were you bringing up that awful party again in the first place?”

“I was simply thinking that despite my behavior, I’m glad it turned out that way. That I prevented Ephraim from growing close to you.”

“You’re a horrible asshole, you know that?”

“If the two of you had dated, I… I’m ashamed to admit it, but I believe I would have grown jealous of you.”

Tana frowns. “For dating Ephraim when you were still single?”

Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath before answering. “No, specifically… dating Ephraim.”

Tana is quiet for a while, tapping her heels against the cliffside. “You continue to be impossible, you know that? Why couldn’t you have just said it right off the bat? That… that you felt that way about him.”

“I didn’t want to,” Innes says, looking away. “It’s… unpleasant for me.”

“Because he’s a man?”

“Not at all. Simply… because it’s _him_.”

Without warning, Tana leans over and pulls Innes into a spine-crushing hug, an act which may not have been the safest sitting on the edge of a cliff, but for once Innes can’t find it within himself to complain. His body goes limp in Tana’s arms, and the hand she runs through his hair almost relaxes him. “You poor thing,” Tana says when she leans back. “Ephraim is the last person who would ever notice something like that, I can speak from experience. Unless you told him directly – did you tell him? Is that why you’re upset? Because you told him and he —”

Innes raises one weary hand to silence her. “I didn’t tell him.” A pause. “I did, however... make a hasty and premature retreat from the melon-splitting competition.”

“You left without competing?” Tana stares at him as though he had sprouted a third eye. “ _You?_  What in the world happened? Do you have a fever or something?”

Covering his mouth with the back of his hand is not enough to hide the sheepish cough that slips through. “He went directly before me. I found his performance… distracting.” There’s no way he’s going to specify that the “distraction” had come in the form of a fantasy about licking fruit shrapnel off the man’s chest. Any form of death or physical torture would be better than admitting that.

“Distracting how?” Tana asks anyway. Of course she isn’t going to let him off the hook — never has, never will.

“It… involved a great deal of fruit,” Innes mutters, squirming slightly.

“Fruit?”

“Fruit… on him.”

Tana laughs. “Let me get this straight: you ran from a fight because were turned on by a fruit-covered Ephraim? Did he notice you were drooling over him? Does that make him, both literally and figuratively… a snack?”

“Tana, if you don’t shut up this instant, I am going to shove you off this ledge, and I will not call an ambulance if you break one or all of your limbs.”

She tosses her hair smugly. “That’s a yes, then.”

“This isn’t funny!” Innes snaps.

Tana softens. “Right, sorry.  Listen, I know you’re going to get mad at this suggestion, but —”

“I’m not going to tell him.”

She falls silent, absently toying with the ruffle on her swimsuit, and Innes almost feels bad for cutting her off. Almost, but not quite. Discussing this is abhorrent, even if he is the one who had initiated it in the first place. Tana watches him gently with an expression that’s somewhere between pity and sympathy, standing up after a lull. Yet again Innes ponders how she would have argued with him in the past, but the new mature Tana understands that her conflicted brother needs his space. It’s a welcome change, but in a childish way Innes almost wishes she had yelled at him instead, if only to distract him from his current discomfort.

“Consider it,” is all she says before leaving Innes to mulling over his thoughts and watching the sea.

* * *

As tempting as it is to throw himself off the edge of the cliff and choose hospitalization over dealing with his problems, Innes knows he can’t brood like this forever. Perhaps getting something to eat will calm his nerves. With that thought in mind, he embarks for the second time towards the boardwalk, careful to avoid stepping on shells and broken glass.

“I didn’t win that melon contest, if it makes you feel any better. Apparently my cut wasn’t clean enough, just like you said.”

Ephraim’s voice startles him; Innes hadn’t even heard the other come up behind him, ironically distracted by ruminating intently on thoughts of the man himself. He turns around slowly, not willing to trust how he’ll react. Ephraim stands before him with a hand on his hip and a raised eyebrow, clearly confused by the previous events that had transpired. Right now Innes doesn’t feel like confronting him about the matter.

(At least he is no longer covered in watermelon.)

“That’s to be expected,” Innes grits through clenched jaw. “Your form was terrible, and your finesse nonexistent. You may as well have smashed the watermelon with your fist for the same effect.”

Ephraim laughs lightly. “And yet, you ran scared anyway.”

“Fear had nothing to do with it,” Innes says curtly. “I simply did not wish to be in your presence any longer.”

The other’s laugh fades to a strained smile. “In that case, I assume you want me to continue to stay out of your sight?”

Innes idly wonders what their relationship would have been like if they had grown up together. There’s nothing inherently _loathsome_ about Ephraim, but he’d always pushed away the other’s attempts at kindness. He prefers to view Ephraim as a rival, someone against whom can test his strength and verbal banter. They do not _play_ together, they are not _friends_ with each other, and they most certainly do not _discuss their feelings_ with one another. Doing so would be somehow taboo, tearing apart the fabric of the unspoken but agreed upon distance they had placed between one another.

For the first time, Innes is beginning to regret that decision.

“You would be correct.”

Ephraim dips his head in what appears to be a respectful nod, but the gesture looks so uncharacteristically _submissive_ on the usually brash man that Innes can’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable. “Enjoy your time on the beach, Innes.”

He moves past Innes and away, and Innes wonders why his conversation with Tana had not helped him in the slightest.

* * *

“Eirika, my brother is in love with yours, and he’s being completely unreasonable about it. I don’t know how to kick him into action – he’s so stubborn, as you’ve seen, and I don’t think he would appreciate it if I buried his body in the sand and threatened to leave him there until the tide came in. Do you have any advice?”

It’s clear that Tana’s friend is doing her best not to outright choke on the sandwich she’s eating. “Ah — sorry? Did I hear you correctly? Innes is… in love with…?”

“With Ephraim.”

“ _No._  ...Really? Are you sure?”

Tana nods vigorously. “I ran into him sulking by himself earlier because he was disappointed he missed the opportunity to lick watermelon off Ephraim’s washboard abs. More or less.”

Eirika looks pained. “Tana, I appreciate the update, but I’d also appreciate not having that mental image of my brother, if you don’t mind. Spare me the details, please…?”

“Right, right, sorry.” Careful not to kick dust into Eirika’s face, Tana sits down on the blanket next to her under the shade of the umbrella and crosses her legs. “So what am I supposed to do?”

Eirika blinks. “Um? I — I must confess, this news is completely out of left field for me, too… I thought your brother wasn’t particularly fond of Ephraim.”

“So did I,” Tana agrees. “And yet, here we are.”

“Oh dear.”

It’s clear that both of them are too baffled by this turn of events to even brainstorm a solution with one another. Tana sighs loudly, wishing she could have just enjoyed this day at the beach with Eirika without complicated personal issues getting in the way. Instead, she has been forced to play therapist to her petulant (and frankly pathetic) brother, and the weight of what she has learned has sullied her carefree summer spirit. “Should we tell them?” Tana asks finally.

Eirika considers. “I think it’s best not to get involved,” she says cautiously.

“Mm…” Again there’s a silence, and Tana scowls, annoyed that her brother’s issues have once again gotten between her and happiness. But no way is she going to let Innes’s problems ruin her day — screw that! He can deal with this on his own from now on. “Eirika, forget them,” Tana says suddenly, despite the fact that she had brought this mess up in the first place. “They’re just dumb boys. Let’s go for a swim! The ocean looks lovely, doesn’t it?”

Eirika smiles softly, albeit a bit pained. “Yes, it does.”

* * *

Avoidance doesn’t feel right. Avoidance feels like the kind of response his sister would have had as a teenager to this kind of emotional conundrum, and Innes hardly feels he’s as incapable of self-reflection as a sixteen year old Tana. Still, telling Ephraim in essence to get lost had been more effective than Innes had hoped, to the point where the other refuses to even make eye contact with him across the beach, much less approach and talk to him.

There’s a food truck near the shaved ice stand selling cheese fries, and though Innes isn’t one for junk food himself, he purchases their largest order as a peace offering of sorts to Ephraim. For as long as the two have known each other, forced into family dinners by their fathers, Ephraim has always possessed a black hole of a stomach. It’s balanced by his constant working out, so he remains slender (with those perfect muscles of his, damn it all!), but even so Innes has often found himself horrified by the amount of food Ephraim can pack away at once. Not to mention, his tableside manners are poor; he often picks up the wrong knife to cut meat, and he licks his fingers rather than using a napkin he may or may not remember to set on his lap at the beginning of the meal.

In retrospect, it seems a bit obsessive of Innes to be this aware of Ephraim’s eating habits considering they’ve shared a meal together a single digit number of times in the past, but his obsessiveness regarding Ephraim is just one of many personal traits Innes has gradually been coming to terms with during this summertime nightmare. At the very least, cheese fries do not require a steak knife for proper consumption.

When he returns to their shared spot on the beach, Ephraim is laying down on the towel with his eyes closed and arms folded behind his head. Upon further scanning of the area, Innes spots Tana and Eirika in the distance, twirling and splashing one another in the ocean like a couple of schoolchildren. How nice that the two of them can loosen up like that around each other, Innes thinks to himself bitterly. He’s not even sure it’s possible for him to talk to Ephraim without an argument ensuing.

“Ephraim.”

Ephraim blinks his eyes open, but his resting expression doesn’t change, so Innes isn’t sure whether he’s uncomfortable or irritated by his presence – or simply doesn’t care at all. “Am I even allowed to respond to that, or is this conversation banned too?”

“Shutting you out entirely is a level of pettiness beyond what even I wish to administer,” Innes admits. “I wanted to apologize for my prior behavior. Though you very consistently annoy me, you have done nothing yet today to warrant annoyance, so I am willing to admit I may have overreacted.”

“Gee, heartfelt apology,” Ephraim mutters, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “Hey — is that cheese I smell? Did you actually get me apology fries?”

“They’re not _apology fries,_ ” Innes growls, shoving the cardboard container under Ephraim’s nose. “They’re simply _fries._ In fact, they are so far from apology fries, that they are practically unapologetic fries at this point.”

Ephraim laughs genuinely at that one, a hearty laugh that shakes his shoulders and causes Innes’s stomach to flip. “Unapologetic fries, gotcha.”

“You’re making fun of me,” Innes accuses.

“A bit,” Ephraim admits, grabbing a too-large handful of the fries and stuffing them in his mouth without second thought. Innes grimaces. “Are you going to tell me what all that was about earlier? You running away?” His words are muffled by the excess food stuffed in his cheeks like a chipmunk.

“I already told you, I wasn’t running!” As usual, the man hasn’t listened to a word he’s said. How insufferable.

Ephraim watches him while he chews, expression unreadable. “Do you ever get tired of berating me?”

“Berating?” Innes echoes. Is that how Ephraim has interpreted their interactions this whole time? Innes had thought this was normal for them. Then again, this non-friendship they shared had been constructed by Innes’s own design, placing a safe distance between the two of them. Ephraim noticing the distance, however, is not something he had accounted for. “Y-you bring it about yourself, by not paying attention to others. Someone has to point it out, or you'll never learn.”

“Ah…” Ephraim folds and unfolds the corner of the beach towel. “Is that why you hate me so much?”

Innes balks, utterly taken aback. “Since when have I hated you?”

Now it’s Ephraim’s turn for surprise. “You don’t? Oh.” He bites his lip. “Well. That’s — that’s good.”

“Quite the opposite, to be honest.”

Innes isn’t sure what prompts him to say it. It's been satisfying somehow, watching Ephraim get a little flustered, worried about what Innes thinks of him even as he does his best not to show it. And it’s satisfying now, watching his eyes widen and his cheeks dust red with embarrassment. Innes hadn’t _said_ it, but the sentiment had come across nonetheless, clear as the summer day. He swallows, knowing this is last chance to escape his own implications.

He doesn’t say another word.

Ephraim leans in, and his smell is an odd mixture of ocean and sweat and cheesy fries, but Innes doesn’t recoil. He leans in, curiosity overtaking disgust, thril overtaking logic. No matter his sudden flurry of mixed feelings, it’s still Ephraim before him, the idiot he had scorned his entire life. And yet that same Ephraim presses their lips together, and curls his arm around Innes’s waist, and Innes doesn’t reject it. Ephraim’s other hand tentatively finds a home in Innes’s hair, fingers gently carding through the locks, and Innes shivers, repulsed at the thought of anyone touching his hair — of _Ephraim_ touching his hair — yet simultaneously relishing each stroke.

It’s only when Ephraim’s tongue swipes against his lips that Innes jolts back, pushing away the other's chest with the palm of one hand. Immediately he misses the lips on his own, but the last act had been way more intimate than he's used to, pushing his nerves over the edge.

“Ah.” Ephraim looks at Innes. He looks at the sky. He looks away. “Ah — hmm.”

“S-stop with the idiotic humming noises,” Innes splutters. “You’re impossible.”

Ephraim leans back in, blush still coloring his cheeks and lips slightly parted, expectant. “Kiss me more,” he mumbles, a hungry yearning in his voice that makes Innes shudder. He’d never heard Ephraim this vulnerable, this desperate — not by a long shot. And then, as though directly and unfairly appealing to Innes’s competitive nature, he adds, voice cracking — “Coward.”

The mental image plagues him then, of Ephraim taunting him somewhere beside the beach, under the covers of his bed perhaps, and the two exchanging verbal blows one after the other while _touching, touching, touching_. It's as though he's losing his mind. “Don’t test me,” Innes growls, leaning in, and Ephraim licks his lips slowly, and it’s all over for the both of them.

Innes smashes their faces together, and Ephraim gasps, but Innes sees Ephraim grinning like a madman before he closes his eyes, kissing him with all the fervor he can manage. Everything is wrong — he hates his rival, he _likes_ his rival — but Ephraim is kissing him and it feels good, and their chests are pressed together, and that feels good too. Ephraim’s muscles are solid and defined, and jealousy and arousal both flash through him in unison. He wants to recoil, he wants more.

Neither of them can look the other in the eye when they break apart, and it’s as though Innes has lost somehow — though whether he’s lost to Ephraim or himself, he’s not certain. Nothing has gone as he had expected; they had hardly spoken before allowing _this_ to happen, and now the gravity of their lack of communication skills is sinking in at an alarming rate. Ephraim is staring down at the beach towel, while Innes is doing all he can not to stare at him. His eyes wander to their sisters playing in the water, and neither of them are looking over. If they’d noticed what had transpired moments ago, they would never have let their brothers live it down, so that’s a small comfort.

“This is… strange,” Innes says before he registers his own voice, and winces.

Ephraim nods, slowly. “Yeah.” He doesn’t look up.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Now Ephraim lifts his head. “Why not?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

“B-because —” Oh gods, he doesn’t even have a real answer.  _Why not, indeed?_ “We don’t like each other,” Innes attempts lamely.

Ephraim scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, we do.”

The frankness startles him, and the subsequent feeling of being exposed does not come from wearing a swimsuit on the beach. “I feel as though I’m _supposed_ to hate you,” Innes confesses. “Doing otherwise would be unnatural.”

“I’ve never hated _you_ ,” Ephraim shoots back. “You’re the one who constantly makes a huge deal out of nothing.”

Innes considers this. Throughout his life, from childhood to high school to now, Innes has always viewed their rivalry something mutual. When he engages Ephraim, the other is perfectly willing to accept his challenge matter what. More times than not, Ephraim wins, and it frustrates Innes, feeding his inferiority. But it’s not as though Ephraim purposely tries to make him look bad; he simply does what Innes asks of him, and he doesn’t hold back because he knows it would damage Innes’s pride further if he did. Innes is also someone who has no qualms vocalizing the qualities he finds obnoxious about Ephraim: his obliviousness, his tendency to solve his problems with force and without delicacy, his inability to focus on classically intellectual pursuits. But now that he thinks about it more deeply, he realizes that Ephraim has never done the same back, other than the occasional, exasperated _you’re obnoxious._

Is he the one who's gotten it wrong all this time?

“I see.” This newfound reframing of Ephraim troubles him more than he can articulate. “Well, in that case —”

“Innes!” Tana’s voice sounds from next to him, and Innes jolts, glancing up wildly at the sister who has suddenly materialized by his side. “Oh, good, you two are finally talking!” Eirika stands behind her, smile present but strained.

Slowly his heart rate calms down as he scans Tana’s face for any sign of mischief or smug knowledge. Her eyes lack the glint that Innes knows they would have if she had been aware of what had been going on several minutes prior, so at least he’s safe there. “We never stopped talking, Tana. A ridiculous notion.”

A snort from Ephraim draws his attention, and Innes glances over, affronted. The infuriating man has returned to eating cheese fries as though nothing had happened.

Innes isn’t sure he’d ever be able stand eating cheese fries again in his lifetime.

“Ah, right. Denial. One of your best qualities.” With a hum, Tana sits down next to Innes on the beach towel, Eirika taking her place beside Ephraim. “You know, the water’s really nice. It might do you some good to splash around a bit. To cool yourself down.”

“Absolutely not,” Innes growls. “And I do not need to be _cooled down,_ thank you very much.”

“Tana and I were going to go check out the lemonade stand,” Eirika says quickly, inserting herself before the two of them begin to bicker. Once an argument starts between Innes and Tana, derailing them is almost an impossibility. Innes is somewhat grateful for her intervention, but at the same time he doesn’t know how to continue the conversation with Ephraim either, having reached a mental impasse of sorts. “Would you like us to bring something back?”

“I’m fine with what we have,” Ephraim says, tapping the cooler with one hand. “What about you?”

It takes a moment for Innes to realize Ephraim is talking to him. He fidgets. “I’m not very thirsty, but thank you for the offer, Eirika.”

“You sure about that?” Tana teases, glancing between him and Ephraim, and not for the first time today, Innes wishes it was socially acceptable to tape her mouth shut.

“Quite certain,” he says curtly, cheeks heating at another muffled snicker from Ephraim. “You may go on your way, thank you very much.”

Tana laughs too, standing and grabbing Eirika by the arm to pull her up. Eirika smiles apologetically at Innes, a gesture he processes but can't respond to, before they head to the boardwalk, leaving Innes in a similar or worse situation than he had been before their intrusion.

Why does he have to _think_ so much about everything? He had always found himself jealous of Ephraim's ability to act so laid back about everything, carrying himself with the confidence that everything will inherently work out. Innes, on the other hand, stresses over any and every detail, and mentally beats himself up at any and all social blunders.

“At one point I actually thought you had a thing for my sister,” Ephraim says after their siblings are outside of hearing range. “Do you remember that time during high school, like a year or so, when you pursued her relentlessly?”

“Don’t remind me.”

Of course, Ephraim reminds him anyway. “You always stepped in when I was talking to her — offering to hold doors for her and carry her stuff. Eirika was too polite to ever tell you how much it exhausted her. It was really smothering for her.” As Innes tries to interject a protest, Ephraim speaks over him. “Did you do that to stick it to me? Looking back, you made a show of it whenever I was around. It annoyed me, and you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

Innes doesn’t answer. Of all the qualities Ephraim could have developed, retrospect and insight were not among the ones he would have expected.

Ephraim shrugs. “It’s all right. I didn’t notice at the time, lucky for you. Otherwise, I probably would have beaten you up.”

That, Innes doesn’t doubt. High school had been an awkward time for Innes; whereas Ephraim was tall and muscular, the perfect image of a jock, Innes hadn’t developed muscle tone or height until years later, doomed to a high school career as a bookish nerd, the kind of person who in a fictitious setting would be stereotypically shoved into a locker by someone who looked like Ephraim. If Ephraim had been cognizant enough back then to realize that Innes had been attempting to win Eirika’s attention to get under his skin, Innes has no doubt he would have been thrashed beyond recognition after school one day. Ephraim is intrinsically a good person, but he’s also no saint, much preferring to settle disputes with his fists than with diplomacy.

“I don’t recall you ever being this reflective in the past,” Innes says moodily.

“We haven’t spoken for a while,” Ephraim says, “and never this seriously. “Neither of us are teenagers anymore. Perhaps it’s time we put some of all of… _this_ behind us.” Earnesty shines through every word he utters, and Innes is a bit breathless. There’s no mockery there, no distaste. Is it really this easy? Is this the relationship they could have had if the two of them had set aside their inhibitions earlier?

Is he currently facing the potential of his future?

“Perhaps,” Innes says cautiously.

He’s not surprised when Ephraim cups his chin in one hand and kisses him again, but what does surprise him is how chaste it is, nervous even. And it comforts him knowing that Ephraim is as uncertain as he is. They're both so mixed up, so confused. 

They still can’t look at one another when they pull back. Innes wonders if it will always be like this, or if the discomfort will dissipate at some point.

“I’m still disappointed you bailed from the melon-smashing contest,” Ephraim says finally.

“And why is that?”

“It would have been more fun with you there,” he says simply. “And then I could have watched your flawless technique and stolen it for next time.”

This at least gets Innes to laugh. “As though I would have let you. It would have been over in a flash, and you’d have been too awestruck to even notice how it was done.”

“If you say so.”

_This banter... is nice._

Perhaps cheese fries are not ruined for him after all.

* * *

“Ephraim, may I ask you something?”

He glances over at Eirika, whose eyes are still on the road but whose fingers are fidgeting on the steering wheel. (Eirika doesn’t like letting Ephraim drive when the two of them are together, calling his speeding habits a “hazard to society.”) “Sure?” Thus far the return home from the beach had been fairly uneventful, with Eirika concentrating on driving and Ephraim lost in thought about… _certain events_ that had transpired.

“Well —” Eirika clears her throat sheepishly, and Ephraim starts to suspect that she’s about to ask him something uncomfortable or embarrassing. He knows his own sister’s body language well enough to deduce that. “It’s about — well, Tana and I were talking —”

“That’s dangerous,” Ephraim interjects flatly.

Eirika frowns. “I’m being serious here. It’s about — well, it’s about Innes.”

Mildly on the alert now, Ephraim raises one eyebrow. “What about Innes?”

Another fidget. “I’m, um — I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to be telling you this, so don’t say anything to either of them. But I think I’d feel worse not telling you, so —”

Ephraim waits.

“Apparently — apparently Innes has a thing for you.”

Ephraim relaxes instantly, holding back a chuckle. “I’m aware of that.”

“You are…?”

Turning his head to watch the scenery flash by out the window, he shrugs. “Yeah, he… told me about it. Earlier. Sort of.” It’s the end of the day, and the summer sun is beginning to set, leaving a streaky orange sunset in its wake. Hopefully they make it home before it’s entirely dark and traversing the road becomes dangerous.

“Oh… so you two talked.” Ephraim senses she’s going to be thinking for a while and thus falls silent. Sure enough, a few minutes of silence drag by before Eirika speaks again. “Um… did you at least let him down easy?”

This time, Ephraim laughs audibly at the utterly misguided query. “Not exactly.”

Eirika huffs indignantly. “You made fun of him, didn’t you? _Ephraim!_ I know the guy can be extremely irritating at times, but you of all people should know how insecure he is! It must have been eating away at him to admit something like that to you — surely you’re not so insensitive as to —”

“Eirika,” Ephraim interjects, and she presses her lips together in a hard line. “You have the wrong idea entirely. I didn’t _let him down_ at all.”

“What — o-oh.” This silence is somehow even longer than the first, or perhaps it just feels longer. “So you, um. You like Innes…?”

Ephraim considers the question. Honestly, Innes has never given him a reason to like him, or even tolerate him. He’s combative, rude, and insults Ephraim every chance he gets. Yet Ephraim has always played along, and for whatever reason, Innes’s attitude has never bothered him. Engaging him in banter and challenges is a thrill. (He’d been rather disappointed when Innes had bailed on the melon-splitting contest, but knowing the reason certainly puts his mind more at ease.)

In the past, he'd never let himself think about his feelings for Innes, assuming the other man hated him. Knowing otherwise has allowed Ephraim to consider other emotions that had previously been buried.

“I think so,” he admits.

“Hmm…” It’s not a judgmental sound, simply a thoughtful one. “So… are you two… together, now that you’ve discussed this?”

Ephraim shrugs. “I don’t really know.”

“How did you two leave it?”

“...I’m not sure.”

Eirika sighs, sparing a disapproving glance before turning back to the road. “You really think that’s a good idea, considering your history? You should talk to him more definitively, Ephraim. Otherwise, things will just be awkward between you from now on. Not that I’m any expert in relationships, but… you should talk to him. Even if it’s hard.”

“Sure…” Ephraim looks out the window, eyes trained on the sky. “But, uh — can we talk about this later? I need… some time.”

Eirika nods. “Sorry about being preachy. Um — in that case, good luck with all that?”

“It’ll work out, somehow.” At least, that’s what he’d like to believe.

When the twins pull into the driveway of their garage, the sun is barely peeking over the horizon, bathing everything in a peaceful glow. It’s the kind of sunset someone would want to share with the person they care about the most — that is, if they were the sentimental sort, and if they had that kind of person in their life.

Ephraim takes out his phone to make a call.


End file.
